


Lucky Charm

by kurgaya



Series: Encounters verse [2]
Category: Bleach, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His parents had left him that charm, and absolutely nothing was going to get in his way of finding the real thing... Finding a rumoured 'shiny' Pokemon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Charm

**Author's Note:**

> (This is the story of Tōshirō's search for his shiny Whimsicott).

> **Unova**

He awoke cold, shivering, and lying in the dirt. Moving his small hands away from his pale face he sat up, slowly, with every bone in his fragile little body groaning, and looked around through the foggy layer of sleep in his eyes to come to the realization that he was still in Pinwheel Forest, and that Granny was probably waiting for him to return home.

His cracked dry lips dropped into a frown at that thought, and dusty jeans shifted in the damp soil as the child hugged his knees to his chest, hiding his muddy face from the watching setting sun that was peaking hesitantly through the gaps between the towering trees of the forest.

He didn't want to worry Granny but...

Sighing, he turned his head to press one of his cheeks against his knees, staring out longingly at the tangled grass surrounding him; the berry bushes and the old, fat tree trunks inviting him to sit. The forest wasn't a place for a ten year old boy to wander at dusk, but Tōshirō pushed that thought from his cluttered brain and got to his feet, brushing off the mud that had collected on his clothes.

Granny was going to have to do another load of washing, he mused guiltily, as had been the norm for the past couple of days; she wasn't stopping him from venturing into the forest, so what right did she have to complain about him getting dirty? And anyway, they were his clothes -  _his_  clothes that  _his mother_  had bought when -

Bottom lip trembling Tōshirō sniffed up his runny nose before it arrived, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets and looking around, once again, for a distraction from his thoughts. That distraction came in the form of something tiny and rough in his right pocket, and he closed his fingers around the object and pulled it out, already knowing exactly what it was.

He held out the plastic charm almost at arm's length, the bright sunny yellow paint that made up the oddly coloured Whimsicott's eyes smiled at him through the night-time mist, and Tōshirō wished more than anything that the bumpy plastic of the Pokemon's fur was soft to the touch, like the real thing, and not some cold hard man-made material that left him feeling let down and empty.

And that was what he was in the forest for - to find the real thing. But no, he was not in search of a normal Whimsicott, he wanted a real life version of his charm - the charm his - his  _parents_  gave to him; an actual rumoured 'shiny' Pokemon that was supposedly so hard to find some people _doubted_  their existence...

"Tōshirō?  _Tōshirō_?"

He turned, clenching his fist tightly around the charm to hide it from the inspecting brown eyes, pulling it sharply towards his pounding chest as his 'sister' wandered closer, treading carefully in her slippers and holding her hands by her stomach in an uncertain manner.

She, unlikely him, looked totally out-of-place in the brambles and the gloom, and Tōshirō hastily shoved his charm back into his pocket as she frowned openly at him, a few feet away.

"Come on Shiro-chan," she chimed, as if trying to lift the light fog around them. "Dinner's almost ready, Granny's expecting you back soon." When he didn't say anything in return, she ran her eyes up and down his body, moving her hands from her stomach so that they rested on either of her hips. The pointed look she gave him made him cringe, reminding him far too much of his mother for his liking.

"What have you been  _doing_? Granny's not gonna to be pleased with all that filth ya know."

As if she needed to tell him that. He mumbled something in reply, kicking a stick and sending it flying, and she seemed to deflate from the adult she was pretending to be into the thirteen year old she actually was, biting her lip at his miserable behaviour.

"Granny made curry tonight," she said, holding out her hand and bribing him with her words. "And we've got amanattō for afterwards..."

"Home-made amanattō?" Tōshirō asked shyly, perking up at the mention of his favourite food.

Hinamori smiled in her usual carefree way, nodding happily. "Of course!" she said, waving her outstretched hand in hope that he would come forward and take it. "Come  _on_  Shiro-chan, it's getting dark..."

She was a teenager and still scared of the dark, but he wasn't going to make a comment on that, knowing that she was only reminding him of it to get some emotion out of him. "Fine, fine," he said, surrendering to her pleading puppy-dog eyes and slinking forward to take her hand. She grasped him tightly once he had, as if afraid he would run off further into the Pokemon-filled forest, and immediately began to lead him back to the footpath.

Tōshirō didn't comment on that either, inwardly thankful for her loving behaviour, and the way she always seemed to turn on the lights when he needed her to.

* * *

"Here you go," said Hinamori but half an hour later, placing a steaming bowl and a pair of chopsticks on the table in front of Tōshirō, smiling when he muttered his thanks and snapped his chopsticks into two, blowing on his dinner but keeping close eye on the girl as she presented the frail lady and her combed-into-submission storm of fading grey hair sitting opposite him another bowl and a second pair of chopsticks before sitting down herself with her own dinner.

It was only then that he began to eat, both his biological parents and his adoptive grandmother having a 'big thing' with table manners... and all manners in general.

"So, Momo," said the aged woman, and Hinamori looked up from her curry. "How was the café today?"

Despite being only thirteen, Hinamori had a weekend job at the Café Warehouse to the north-west of Nacrene City, something she took great pleasure and pride in, considering her dream was to run her own restaurant one day. Unlike most children she had no interest in becoming a Pokemon trainer, something which her grandmother was rather happy with, to be frank.  _Not_  that she would say anything of the sort out loud, but Tōshirō was perceptive and he found himself rather good at reading people's hidden messages during conversations.

"It was busy," said the teen, jabbing a piece of chicken as if that would help vent her frustration. "But it was great - Lenora visited today!"

She was the city's Gym Leader, known for a heart the size of her hair, but she was only the second strongest Leader out there - Tōshirō had lived in Black City before being adopted, and just across Marvelous Bridge was Nimbasa City, home to Elesa, and she was far stronger than Lenora. Not that her strength affected how nice she was, and Lenora was a lovely person... When you weren't on her bad side anyway.

Someone had caused a disturbance in the museum once, just after Tōshirō had arrived in Nimbasa, and she had blown a fuse.

Really,  _really scary_ didn't even begin to cover what she had been like.

"That's wonderful," smiled Granny, before turning to invite the third person into the conversation. "What about you Tōshirō, what did you do today?"

She had no reason asking - she  _knew_  that he had been in Pinwheel Forest for practically the whole day, and even if she didn't know exactly what he was doing out there, she understood enough about young boys to know it probably involved mud.

"Was in the forest," Tōshirō replied quietly, just for the sake of being polite.

"Did you find anything?" continued the elderly woman kindly, and the small boy prodded his dinner in a dejected response, telling her what she needed to know. Despite living with them for a good couple of months now, the humble white haired child was mostly still a mystery to her; withdrawn and private, he didn't like to share his thoughts or feelings. She supposed this could be because of the sudden loss of both his parents, and she understood the emptiness that losing loved ones was like, having lost her daughter and son-in-law, Hinamori's parents, just after the dark haired bundle of sunshine  _that was_  Momo Hinamori had been born, but as time went on she started to doubt herself;

Had Tōshirō always been this quiet? If so, was there a reason for the unusual behaviour? He was a ten year old little boy, he should be out running and playing and laughing without a care in the world, not wandering a Pokemon-filled forest on his own.

"Maybe tomorrow then," she said, hoping to lift the boy's spirits. He gave a sad little smile and put his chopsticks down, seemingly bored with playing with his dinner.

"May I be excused? I'm not hungry."

Hinamori's mouth dropped open slightly from beside him, as if she couldn't imagine why he was possibly turning down food. Granny gave her a swift look that had her snapping her mouth shut with a blush, and then frowned at the waiting member of the household. "I suppose so dear," she said softly, trying not to show her disappointment. "But how about you put the bowl in the fridge in case you get hungry later?"

Tōshirō, already on his feet and collecting his bowl, nodded with a, "Yes Ma'am," and set about to do what she said. Granny returned to her meal when the fridge door shut, wanting to finish soon as the curry was getting cold.

Hinamori didn't say anything on Tōshirō's silent departure, already used to it and the rainy cloud it that floated about in his wake.

* * *

"Stupid forest! Why can't you give me what I want?"

He scooped up a stone from the ground and lobbed it in a random direction, the bush it landed in opened up to reveal a mass of frightened Sewaddle, and Tōshirō gave a shriek, unheard in the terrified cries of the crawling green Pokemon, running away and jumping onto a fallen log to get out of their rampaging reach. Only once the calm of the midnight forest had settled back in did the child clamber down from his safe-post, eyes and ears alert just in case the Sewaddle decided to come back for more, but they didn't come back, and Tōshirō plonked himself down in the middle of some overgrown grass, sighing irritably.

Why was it so hard to find one Pokemon? What was he doing wrong? The closest thing he had found to a shiny Whimsicott was a normal coloured Cottonee, the pre-evolution of the giant puffball, and  _boy_  had he found a lot of them.

But they weren't what he was after. And he didn't want second best.

He grabbed a stick from within reach and started to draw lines on the ground to amuse himself; he had been in Pinwheel forest for most of the morning now, and it was about time that Granny came and checked up on him. She didn't know he was looking for a Pokemon - she thought he was just in need of some space, which he was, there was no denying that - and Tōshirō wanted to keep it that way. She would probably forbid him from venturing into the forest if she knew he was going out of his way to come across potentially dangerous Pokemon, but she wasn't his actual Grandmother so she had no say in what he did and did not do...

Right?

Pulling his jacket tighter around himself he sniffed, stabbing the stick through a leaf in hope that some miracle might come along soon. He was tired, a little bit hungry, and feeling sad, but he wasn't going to give up. The plastic charm in his pocket constantly reminded him what he came into this forest for, and he wasn't going to stop looking until he had achieved his goal.

He wasn't going to back down.

He wasn't going to give up.

He was going to find that shiny Pokemon, because he was determined, and he was capable. If he put his mind to it he could do anything.

 _That's_  what his parents would have wanted.

With new-found determination he stood and marched over to the awaiting grass, casting the stick down behind him with all it's uselessness, and, cupping his hands to his mouth, shouted to the suddenly very quiet forest, "Come on then! Come and get me!"

And then, taking a deep breath because he had  _put the forest in it's **place**_ , his face heated up in embarrassment as a pair of passing girls, skipping merrily with their neon winter coats and pig-tail hair tied up with pretty little polka-dots bows, giggled and pointed at him; he turned away to hide his face, but his frown of fearlessness never left his face as the midday sun settled down into the leisure of the afternoon.

Patting his charm-filled pocket, Tōshirō nodded to himself and began to wander - there had to be a shiny Whimsicott in the forest somewhere - there  _had_  to be.

* * *

When Granny knocked on his bedroom door after dinner some weeks later, Tōshirō knew he was probably in trouble. His room was fairly empty, all of his belongings having been burnt in the - the...  _incident_  that had - um... yeah - but Tōshirō wasn't like Hinamori and he didn't feel the urge to cram his space with little trinkets and dolls; he had a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk if he felt the need to use it. There were a few oak shelves on the right wall that held his new collection of books and the handful of family photos that had been salvaged from the house wreck, but that was about. As the door creaked open he scrambled up from his front and sat on the edge of his bed, beginning to swing his short legs as the sad smile of the elderly woman became visible in the lamp-lit light of his room.

He sucked in a breath. She didn't look very happy.

"Oh Tōshirō," she said first, peering through the tense haze in the room. "Why don't you put a light on?"

"There _is_  a light on, Granny," he said politely, trying to hide his rude sharpness. But she ignored his comment and flicked on the main bedroom light, and her sad smile seemed to become even sadder now that he could properly see it.

"Is something wrong, Granny?"

She plodded over, and he made an unnecessary space for her on the bed.

"Tōshirō," she began again, her voice but a whisper, and the child stared up at her with his big bright eyes. This seemed to amuse her, for she laid a gentle hand on one of his knees and gave it an appreciative squeeze, continuing, "I am concerned, child, about how much time you are spending in Pinwheel Forest."

Oh. Tōshirō didn't like where this conversation was heading already.

(At least she hadn't dilly-dallied with getting to the point)

"I understand you need some space, dear, but you've been spending all day in that forest for weeks - if not months, and I think you need to come away from there and try and make some friends."

(She had to be joking)

"Why Granny?" he asked, looking confused and honestly not wanting to make friends - he had met Hinamori's friends once, but they avoided him, like they were scared. He couldn't understand why - he hadn't done anything to them.

"Because a forest isn't a place for a ten year old child, Tōshirō, especially one on his own."

White eyebrows pulled together in hopelessness. "But I  _like_  Pinwheel Forest..."

No, he didn't, but if lying to her meant that he could continue going there for his search, then lying was something he was going to have to do.

(He hoped his parents wouldn't mind, wherever they were)

"I understand that, Tōshirō, but it's a dangerous place and I would rather you not go in there."

(Funny, he had gone from 'child' to 'dear' to 'Tōshirō' in the space of about a minute)

"But I haven't been hurt!" he argued, voice rising, and Granny actually looked surprised at his outburst. "I'm okay! I'm not  _going_  to get hurt - why can't I go?"

She looked just as helpless as he did and he jumped to his feet, hating it.

"Tōshirō - "

"It's not fair!" he whined, angry and hurt that she thought she had the  _right_  to - "I don't want to make friends - they don't like me anyway, why can't you understand?"

This information was obviously new to her, for she startled, suddenly unsure of herself. "What makes you think that, dear?" she asked, reaching for him to try and get him to sit back down. "I'm sure they were just getting used to you - "

What was that word that his father's friend had used? They had been arguing over something - he couldn't remember what - but it must have been a mean word because his mother had covered his ears, far too late, mind, when it had been spoken...

(Ah well, only one way to find out)

He quickly took a deep breath to prepare himself, just in case, and when Granny's hand grasped his sleeve he knocked it away with an echoing 'smack'. "Bullshit!" he yelled, and it came as such a shock that the old lady cradling her hand actually made a little noise when it erupted from his mouth. "You don't know a thing! You can't tell me what to do!  _You're not my mother!_ "

And then he ran.

_(Oh god oh god oh god)_

Out of the room, across the hallway, down the stairs and out of the house, ignoring his shoes and leaving the door wide open -

_(Shouldn't have done that, really shouldn't have done that)_

It was pitch black outside but he didn't care, sprinting right past the glowing Pokemon Centre and around the next block of buildings, biting back gasps of pain as the pebbles and stones dug into his feet through his thin cotton socks -

_(What if Granny's hurt? What if I hurt her?)_

He thought he heard someone calling after him but it could have been the night-time wind; the tree branches battering against windows and walls; or the howls of the nocturnal Pokemon soaring above him in the light of the moon: crawling around him in the bushes and plants on the outskirts of Nacrene City, joining the forest and the busty of the people together -

_(What should I do? What should I do?)_

There was nobody around from stopping him from going in Pinwheel Forest.

_(Run, run, run)_

Slumbering Pokemon remained oblivious to his tired pants as he ventured deeper into the forest than he ever had before; past the first log, scrambling around the second, the third; completely out of view from the path he kept going - kept running; he didn't want to be found - didn't want -

His foot caught on something and he tumbled to the ground, realizing he was falling just quick enough to turn slightly and protect his nose. He lay there, more awake than he had ever been, breathing heavily through his mouth with his hands bent up beside his face, and he listened, waited...

The forest was strangely loud at night.

He sat up once the shivers settled in, clutching himself tightly to try and stay warm. Covered in dirt and red in the face was not how Granny was going to want to find him, and Tōshirō sniffed, staring around through the gloom. Everything was so still, yet so alive at the same time; he could hear the stirring and the squawks of the creatures around him, and he curled up into a ball, bottom lip trembling.

Fear quickly sank in.

What was he doing out here?  _What was he doing?_  It was cold and dark and scary and there were Pokemon everywhere and Granny was going to be so  _mad_...

He needed to get home. Sniffing again he clambered to his feet and glanced around, trying to remember which way he had come from. The fact that the forest looked different at night didn't help, and he had never been this far into it before... But that was okay, it couldn't be too hard to find his way out, could it?

He began to walk.

Minutes passed.

Everything looks the same in the dark, he mused, still hugging himself desperately and glancing around. It was hard to tell the bushes from the tree-stumps; the grass from the gravel, and Tōshirō found himself almost constantly tripping over shadowed objects, catching his feet in twisted roots, and walking face-first into low-hanging branches of towering trees, reaching down for him like a pair of decaying bony arms. There were bright eyes everywhere - he didn't realize that Pidoves and Venipede's were awake at night; he thought they slept, like humans, like their fellow forest-dwelling folk, and they were watching him - staring at him.

It really creeped him out.

He wondered if Granny was looking for him. But he wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't - he had yelled at her, and slapped her hand away (she was probably hurting) and said some horrible things; he would understand if she was angry enough not to care.

Tōshirō hoped she would care though, because he was scared and he didn't like it out here in the dark. He was lost and tired and cold and miserable, and he wanted to return home to a nice warm bed and maybe a cup of hot chocolate delivered with open, loving arms...

Big fat tears started to swell up in his eyes, and he was just about to give up, to collapse down onto his knees and sit there until morning came and the sun could guide people to his location, when a sharp rodent-like cry called from behind him and he spun around to find himself face to face with a little red Pokemon with a strange flame shaped hairdo.

It's wide eyes stared at him curiously; it had probably never seen a child out in the forest this time of night before, and Tōshirō reached a shy hand out towards it - maybe it could help him, maybe it could show him the way out of here...

The small Pokemon jumped back with a startling amount of spring, a look of total smugness of it's round strawberry coloured features, and Tōshirō could just imagine it sticking out it's tongue in a teasing, childish manner -

Instead, a white hot flame burst from it's mouth, just a little one, but enough to light the darkness between them, and Tōshirō froze, still, like a statue; his reaching hand could still  _feel_  the tickle of the fire even as the light escaped the forest and plunged them back into the night -

_/"Sweetie? Sweetie where are you...? Tōshirō? Tōshirō!"/_

The stench of smoke was thick in the back of his throat.

_/"Dad? Mum! Muuum! I can't - Mum help! Help!"/_

He could  _taste_  the ashes - the wood, the paper, the books in his bedroom  _burning_  -

He  _screamed._

The Pansear bolted, scurrying back into the night from whence it came, and Tōshirō, so frightened at the sudden movement, tripped backwards in his rush to get away  _(runrunrun)_  and landed in a sobbing, shuddering heap on the ground, his hands grasping at his chest, his breathing heavy.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he knew no more.

* * *

He awoke warm, cosy, and lying on a cloud. Moving his small hands away from his pale face he sat up, slowly, with every bone in his fragile little body commanding him to lie back down in the giant pillow of fluff he seemed to be sleeping in, and looked around through the foggy layer of sleep in his eyes to come to the realization that he was most likely in Pinwheel Forest, and that Granny was probably waiting for him to return home.

He said 'most likely' because  _all he could see_  were the unique grainy patterns of the inside of a hollow log, surrounding him like a dome, and a huge mass of white _fluff_  hugging him from every side, like a larger-than-life sized pillow, new out of the packet.

His brain took a moment to catch up. And in that time (taking into account that it wasn't a very long time at all) the giant ball of cloud that he was leaning against shifted, like a Purrloin stretching in the morning, and a chubby black face and a pair of shiny yellow eyes popped into view in the cramped space inside of the log.

Tōshirō couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was a  _Pokemon_  curled up next to him - but not just  _any_  Pokemon; a Whimsicott - and not just  _any_  Whimsicott...

An  _oddly coloured_  Whimsicott.

Letting out a shrill cry of delight he launched himself further into the Pokemon's fluffy body, clamping his arms around the pure white of the cotton-ball, and digging his fingers into the soft, heavenly material.

The Whimsicott didn't seem to mind being man-handled by a ten year old. In all honestly, it actually looked rather amused, staring down at the snow-kissed hair of the child currently crying with relief into it's fur. It reached one tiny paw around and ' _bopped_ ' the boy on-top of the head, a huge smile breaking out on it's perfectly round face when Tōshirō timidly looked up at it, his nose still buried deep in it's fur.

"Um... Hi..." Tōshirō said, now thoroughly embarrassed, and he released his hold on the wild Pokemon slightly.

The shiny Whimsicott beamed, 'bopping' him on the head again as if trying to give the child some comfort.

"Can I keep you?" asked Tōshirō, wide eyes shining hope. He wasn't sure if the Whimsicott could understand him, but it was worth a shot; he wasn't going to be able to communicate any other way, and he didn't have a pokeball with him.

That thought hit him like a ton of bricks.

What if the Whimsicott  _ran away?_

It gave a happy coo, as if it could sense his unhappy thoughts, and shuffled around in the tight space so that they were sitting face-to-face. Tōshirō was quite surprised with how big the Whimsicott was - they were about the same size, but the white cotton on the Pokemon's back gave it the impression that it was bigger, and tougher than it actually was, and he felt his face fall.

He'd  _never_  find it again if it ran away...

Another cheerful cry from the Whimsicott, and then another, but the second certainly didn't belong to any of the Pokemon in the forest -

" _Tōshirō?_ "

He scrambled to one end of the hollow log, poking his head out into the sharp daylight and coming literally face-to-face with a cold black nose of Lenora's Herdier. When it barked loudly in his ears he gave a yelp and shot backwards, whacking his head against the dry wood of the log, but before the Herdier could get any closer the Whimsicott climbed on-top of his stomach, positioning itself in a rather threatening manner to the Gym Leader's Pokemon.

Uh-oh.

"No, no, no!" he said, trying to push the Whimsicott off of him. "Don't fight, you're friends!"

(Well, they obviously  _weren't_ )

"Tōshirō? Is that you?"

And then, thankfully, the young Gym Leader of Nacrene appeared from behind one of the trees. She gave one look at the situation - her Herdier nose-to-nose with a Whimsicott, and said Whimsicott standing protecting over a trapped child - before clapping her hands together and ending the fight as her loyal companion trotted over.

Once the Whimsicott had jumped on-top of the fallen log to get out of the way, Lenora felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders. "Oh  _child_ ," she hushed, hurrying over and helping Tōshirō to his feet. "Everyone will be so glad that you're safe and sound."

She brushed him down, and he felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment.

"Sorry ma'am."

The sharp look she sent him made him re-think his apology. "It's alright, everything's okay. You're okay and that's all that matters now - your Grandmother was ever so worried when you didn't return last night."

This reminder of last night's events made guilt settled uncomfortably in his stomach. He was about to apologise again and explain how he hadn't meant to fall asleep, and he really didn't know how he had ended up in the log, when the ignored Whimsicott made itself known, proudly emitting a cry.

Tōshirō had no idea what it had just said, but Lenora seemed to know. "You helped Tōshirō here? Why thank you, I don't know what we would have done if he had been hurt."

The Whimsicott said something else, and Lenora nodded in return. There was a moment of silence in which Tōshirō held his tongue, biting back his questions, but Lenora quickly broke it, slipping her hand into her pocket and pulling out a pokeball. The Herdier sniffed it curiously, possibly wondering it if belonged to him, and the shiny Whimsicott bounded over without a care in the world. It settled by his feet, as close to his leg as it could possibly have gotten, suddenly,  _suddenly_ , Tōshirō knew what was going on.

Lenora presented him the pokeball without a word, and he took it gladly.


End file.
